Stray
by Day of the Wolf
Summary: Thane enjoys some self-gratification as he reflects on his complex feelings toward Commander Shepard. Set somewhere in the middle of Mass Effect 2.


Stray

Rated **M** for **masturbation**!

Thane Krios is perfect for this kind of story. I don't really like solo's but Thane is too tasty to avoid this way. May have flowery language and a lot of build-up. Garrus would have a more rock 'em sock 'em type of solo. Hmm, might be an intention there...

_**(Sorry to any fans of my 'Aliens' fanfic for lack of updates. I'll finish the story soon!)**_

I wrote Shepard genderless on purpose, so the reader can imagine Thane wanting male or female Shepard. (Since I read somewhere that Thane was supposed to be bisexual...)

I own nothing Mass Effect...aside from a Legion t-shirt and Thane and Tali action figures...

_(I also have Deunan from Appleseed since there ain't no female Shepard!)_

* * *

><p>Thane closed the book he'd been reading. Kasumi had been kind enough to lend him one of her priceless gems; a first edition of <em>Antigone<em>. He'd enjoyed the ancient story very much, almost as much as the feel of real paper against his fingers, even if he found it slightly difficult to appreciate the subtlety of human standard.

During his training and travels, Thane had learned quite a bit about language. He could comfortably read and write in seventeen of the most frequently used languages in Citadel Space, three of which were Drell dialects, now nearly extinct but for their preserved written forms. Aside from common greetings and prayers said during marriages or birth ceremonies, Drell didn't speak their native tongue anymore. Asari and Hanar scholars knew more about Drell history and culture than even Thane himself.

It had once been a dream of his to take his family to visit the legendary Skyrim Archives on Thessia. There, he and Irikah would have shown Kolyat the few treasures of Drell art and architecture saved from Rakhana a few decades after the Hanar's liberation of his dying race.

He set the book down gently and laid himself on his cot, folding his arms behind his head to expand his chest and ease his breathing as much as possible. He took a deep, weary breath and his thoughts immediately strayed to Shepard. A soldier loyal to nothing but the protection and preservation of life. All life. Strange for someone 'contracted' by Cerberus.

"An amazing human...person," Thane mused quietly. Over the weeks spent fighting beside his new commander, Thane had grown intrigued by the individual who had, more than once, bared the weight of hundreds of thousands of lives and had been the focus of billions as the first human Spectre. How could anyone succeed under so much pressure? Thane had had tremendous respect for Commander Shepard, the institution, but only recently had the soul behind the stories begin to mean anything to him.

Thane thought back to his first encounter with the brazen soldier...

_Silent in the cramped space. I move like a spider. Determination on my brow, the scent of death on my skin. I know what must be done. Final act of contrition. Like a machine, one two, three mecrs dead. I crawl, I fly. I am ready for-a gunshot from the floor below. I stop, listen. I peek through the grate beneath me. An elevator opens and a human, her body like art rushes out, shotgun high, pupils dilated. A Turian sniper hangs back. I cock my head, not Nassana's men. A soldier in armor like the sky moves into the room. The air changes, shifts, is charged with power. Sunlight catches the ferocity __reflected in those experienced eyes. The gaze sweeps the room, moves up. I hold my breath. N7 burns on the chest-plate. The marine expels a thermal clip, beckons the sniper forward. My heart pounds with vigor, renewed. Silent in the cramped space, I move like a spider._

_I am awake..._

Thane closed his eyes and exhaled, a tremor tumbling down his spine. The commander's face, strong and certain, danced behind his lids. He opened eyes to greet the empty room. In his chest, Thane felt a familiar yet troubling ache. His commander, whom he swore to protect and serve, to die for, essentially, had given him a great gift. Companionship. Their talks, formal at first had taken on a friendly air, which was new to him. And Shepard had given Thane his son back. Two undeserved comforts that had made Thane's death march less regretful.

But things were different now...

Thane was alive. Shepard wasn't someone to die for, but someone to live for. He wanted...more. And he hated himself for it.

Thane wanted Shepard.

Hero of the Citadel, Spectre, Alliance Marine, brash but diplomatic soldier, the last hope for the galaxy, Shepard. Thane had realized with a stillness in his blood that it wasn't Shepard's cause that gave Thane his drive to survive, but his desire for _Shepard_ that kept him alert and diligent about his physical health.

The guilt that stung him regarding his budding feelings for his commander was second only to his guilt about abandoning his son. Even if Thane was somehow granted the gift of time, Thane would never be worthy of Shepard's heart.

Shepard, who wielded a shotgun with the precision of a sniper rifle, who defended Quarians and Geth alike, who laughed at Jeff's jokes when no one else would, Shepard who had died fighting and was resurrected with a gun and a smirk.

Shepard the defender, a warrior and a friend. Thane would die to ensure the commander's safety, and he would live to celebrate with everyone on the Normandy. Every moment was precious now. Even though he had been advised to limit his solipsism, Thane couldn't keep his mind in the present, stray memories of Shepard battled for supremacy in his mind. He needed to focus. Ten years of being metaphorically dead had made it more difficult to quell strong emotions, at least when he was alone. Thane took several shaky breaths, his mind still swimming with Shepard's eyes, voice, lips, hands around a gun...Thane chuckled at the last memory. His mind stilled somewhat, but his body was awake. The cool, dry air seemed to beckon him, and he felt uncomfortably warm in his tight leather clothes.

Thane sighed and surrendered to his carnal needs. 'If reality rejects you, fantasy is the safest bet for maintaining one's sanity'. [Popular saying in Illium's red light district.]

Thane kept his eyes closed as if to shut out the truth of his actions and slowly slid his hands down the sides of his face, softly tickling his fringe on the way to his chest. His full lips parted in pleasure as his fingers deftly crept across every clasp and buckle, undoing them silently. He rested his hands on his hipbones just long enough to leave warm imprints on the pulse points and than gradually traced either side of the zipper on his vest all the way up until he reached the tag. He smiled as pulled the zipper down, tauntingly as if revealing himself to a lover, and caressed each inch of exposed skin with his fingertips. He sat up briefly and shrugged his jacket and shirt from his shoulders before laying back down. He rested his hands just below his pectorals to gather himself, enjoying the feel of cool, clean, air against his fine jade scales. Thane wondered how Shepard would regard his foreign Drell body, how his human commander might touch him, and tried to see his body through alien eyes.

Thane had seen enough humans on Illium to get the gist of what made their bodies look different from his own. Humans didn't have stripes, that much Thane knew for certain. Shepard would likely find his back, arms, and torso very interesting for that reason. Thane moved one of his hands and followed the black stripes on his ribs and across his biceps and shoulders while his other hand glided down his smooth, defined abdomen. His breathing deepened as he lightly traced the lines on his face, imagining Shepard's lips brushing his skin.

The hand on his stomach dipped into the waste band of his pants teasingly. He swept his fingers across the skin there from one end of his slim hips to the other, and then swiftly brushed the back of his hand over groin.

He moaned lightly and felt himself hardening at the direct contact. Thane's hand hovered over his growing bulge. Shepard would relish in having control over him, would tease him this way. Thane's fingertips moved along the triangular design around his crotch. He licked his lips. His mind strayed to a memory of Omega. He, Samara, and Shepard had gone there to kill Morinth. Thane remembered the way Shepard had worked the crowd, had defended the asari dancer, recalled how quickly his commander had baited the predatory Ardat-Yakshi, and how smoothly Shepard had seduced her with intense eyes and suggestive body language. Shepard told Morinth everything she wanted to hear. Shepard was a perfect hunter.

Thane had watched with concern at the time, but the rawness, the confidence Shepard had shown inspired arousal in him now, a hunter himself as he was.

Thane groaned as his hands slipped up his body and teased the scales on his torso that framed his silkier red flesh on his sides above his hips, flesh like that of his throat.

"Shepard..." his gravelly voice pleaded. Thane needed to finish this, but he didn't want the story to end. Thane grunted as his erection strained against his tight pants. He quickly reached down and pushed his pants to his knees and sighed deeply. Feeling less pressure as his hard-on was free from constriction, his sense of urgency diminished slightly. As he laid back down, he gently raked his nails up his thighs and hips and his pelvis involuntarily bucked upward. He placed one finger on the underside of his penis and moved it up and then circled the tip. He inhaled sharply through his teeth as a few beads of pre-cum leaked out. He repeated the motion. Once. Twice. Three times. Each time slowing and savoring the sensation. He knew that the more aroused he became, the more Shepard would tease him, so Thane kept his movements slow and light. He groaned in pleading frustration and more cum dripped out and slid down his length and settled on his tight emerald scrotum. He smeared the liquid around on the delicate flesh and moaned relaxedly as he imagined his commander's mouth playing with him.

Feeling slightly guilty, Thane's hand pulled back for a moment as he took several deep breaths to steady himself. His left hand was still tracing his chiseled body in sweet exploration and every minute brush of the skin sent shivers ghosting all over his body and up his spine and into his brain, ending their journey on his cock. He looked down at his hardness and was briefly disappointed at not finding Shepard grinning hotly back up at him. He looked at his unclean hand and raised his brow slightly.

"Do it," the Shepard of Thane's fantasies commanded softly but with a gaze that could melt sand. His stomach trembled with delighted need.

Thane brought his soiled fingers to his lips and gingerly tasted the sticky liquid. He felt embarrassed and helpless against Shepard's control. His cock twitched. His commander cooed at him, this wasn't supposed to be humiliating, and crawled up his body and removed his hand. Thane imagined Shepard languidly suckling his fingers clean as Thane suckled them and slid his free hand to his pulsing erection. He placed his thumb on the base and his index finger on the underside and gripped gently than pulled upwards. As soon as he reached his head, he twisted his hand to the right so his digits were on either side of his cock and pushed them back down to the base where he twisted again so his hand was at its original position. Up, twist. Down, twist. Up, twist. Down, twist. His right hand, now clean but for the sheen of saliva, ran over his bony crown and down to his pectorals where he swirled his wet fingers across his torso, his mind saw Shepard lapping and nipping his flesh as the commander's hand teased his penis.

Thane grunted and groaned, he was getting close. He wrapped his hand around his cock quickly and began stroking at a steady pace.

"Oh, Shepard...faster, please!" Thane's baritone whispers begged the air. Imaging Shepard straddling him and smiling, Thane pumped his hand faster, gripped it tighter, seeing Shepard bouncing up and down on his body and panting loudly and moaning his name while staring deeply into his eyes, Thane's breath caught in his throat for a moment. There was such power and desire in those hardened eyes...

...and love.

Thane gulped the air down greedily as his pumping became harder and erratic. He thrust into his fist to match his pace.

"Oh gods, Shepard! I'm going to..."

Thane growled his commander's first name as he climaxed. He angled his cock toward himself and came on his own stomach. He kept coming and coming, electric ripples pulsing and clenching inside of him as he drifted downward from his initial orgasmic high. He continued to stroke himself slowly as small streams of semen jetted across his abdomen. He inhaled unsteadily until his lungs were full and held it for several seconds and then released it. Once Thane was sure he wasn't going to suffocate, he relaxed his muscles and felt totally spent if not sated.

Love. Was it his own wish to see that feeling in those eyes? Or had the commander actually gazed at Thane with such a longing? Thane's relaxed mind sifted through every memory of Shepard's eyes for the answer. It was shameful and reckless enough for him to harbor romantic inclinations toward Shepard, but Thane felt himself too weak to resist if Shepard actually returned such desires.

Suddenly Thane's mind went blank as a coldness prickled throughout his body.

What if Shepard _didn't_ love him?

Would he really want to know the truth? Or should he spend his last months living in a fantasy where every gaze and touch meant something simply because he didn't know Shepard's real feelings?

"Commander Shepard is requesting entry, Mr. Krios." EDI's voice was somehow softer than he remembered.

"Just a moment," he said swiftly as he cleaned and redressed himself, taking his usual seat at the table that faced the core. Thane's face was an impassive mask covering nervous guilt. Would Shepard be able to sense what Thane had just done? The door slid open and Thane resisted the urge to look over his shoulder at the commander's approach.

"Do you need something?" His voice was thick and held a hint of pleading. _Do you need me the way I need you? _

"Do you have a few minutes to talk?" Shepard's voice seemed strained slightly, as if doubtful of Thane's response. It was only then he realized the late hour. Conventionally, Shepard was asleep at this time.

Curious.

"Of course. Any time I have left is yours to take, Shepard. What's on your mind?" Shepard sat across from him, placing two steaming mugs of carob and lilac tea before them. Thane looked up, surprised and flattered by the gesture.

"I'm having second thoughts about this mission, I could use some advice." Part of Thane wished they could discuss something more personal, but with Shepard, the mission came first. He steeled himself for a bout of professionalism.

"In what capacity?" Shepard's brows knitted together and Thane took the moment to sip his drink, the commander subconsciously mimicked him.

"I'm assembling the best team in the galaxy to beat the Collectors, if we die, the galactic community will be left unprotected. What if that is what Cerberus really wants? To eliminate every threat to his goals? The Collectors and those of us strong enough to stop them?" Shepard's eyes met Thane's and in their purity and intensity, Thane saw everything he needed to know. Thane considered and cleared his throat, taking another long drag from his cup.

"Do you think The Illusive Man would resurrect you just to eliminate us?" Shepard laughed, embarrassed.

"I guess I hadn't thought of that." Shepard gulped a few mouthfuls of tea. "No matter what happens, I will always be grateful for his...investment in Project Lazarus."

"As will I, Shepard. As will we all," he amended quickly.

"To second chances," Shepard toasted, mug raised.

"Indeed." Thane smiled as their glasses clinked together and they enjoyed a sip in unison. The conversation drifted easily into more personal subjects and Thane embraced the experience to fullest. Regardless of the future, these few stolen moments of quiet conversation were exactly what Thane wanted.

He would live for Shepard, he would die for Shepard.

He would follow Shepard to hell and back.

He would wait for Shepard across the sea.

* * *

><p>First of its kind! Lemme know what you think!<p> 


End file.
